


(Don't Stop) 'Til You Knock On My Door

by FullmetalChords



Series: japan's ace, katsuki yuuri [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Asexual Character, Asexual Katsuki Yuuri, Cock Rings, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Katsuki Yuuri, Edging, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Series, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Toys, Submissive Victor Nikiforov, based on art by ingthing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalChords/pseuds/FullmetalChords
Summary: “And…” Victor wets his lips. “You… want this?”A sly smile spreads across Yuuri’s face.“I want,” Yuuri says, putting his hands on Victor’s hips as he pulls him closer, “to give you what you need.” He brushes his thumbs over Victor’s hip bones. “Will you tell me what you need now?”--Yuuri is ace. Victor is not. They both find a way to get what they need from each other.





	(Don't Stop) 'Til You Knock On My Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ingthing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingthing/gifts).



> This was originally based on this [VERY SPICY ART by blushunder on Tumblr](http://blushunder.tumblr.com/post/162365103702/victor-never-stood-a-chance-i-colored) (DEFINITELY not safe for work, there's dicks in it). 
> 
> As for the rest of this fic? I really like ace!Yuuri (being ace myself I relate to him a lot), but I also really like sub!Victor. Do you see... where I'm going... with this. 
> 
> (Here's a hint: vibrating sex toys. Yuuri's asexuality is respected, and everything that happens between the two of them is very consensual.)
> 
> Also, during the smut scene itself, they're listening to "Clouds" by Børns, which you can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBsFokXkjyI) if you are so inclined.

There are moans coming from the bedroom when Yuuri walks in the door.

He’s back early from running a few errands, picking up groceries and dropping off Victor’s busted laptop at MediaMarkt so it can get fixed. Makkachin comes up to greet Yuuri as he enters, and he kneels, shifting the bag in his arms so he can kneel down to pet the dog.

That’s when he hears it.

“Ahh… oh, fuck…”

It’s a breathy sound, somewhat muffled by the walls of their St. Petersburg loft, but it is unmistakably coming from the bedroom. Yuuri rises, setting the bag of groceries on the kitchen island before moving slowly to the bedroom door, as if in a trance.

He’s heard noises like those before, on videos watched late at night when he was still trying to figure himself out. But he’s never heard them coming from his fiancé.

He had no idea Victor could _moan_ like that.

Yuuri turns the knob, quietly, and is immediately treated to the sight of Victor spread-eagled on the mattress, completely nude, the covers stripped and a ratty towel Yuuri doesn’t recognize placed under Victor’s hips. Victor has his eyes shut, a pair of noise-canceling headphones over his ears, so he still hasn’t noticed Yuuri enter.

Of course, with what he’s doing to himself, Yuuri would be surprised if Victor noticed anything at all.

Victor is panting, two slick fingers pressed inside his entrance as he slowly works in a third. His other hand — his right hand, the one with Yuuri’s ring on his finger — wanders up and down his flushed torso, skimming over ribs, circling his nipples. He brings that hand up to his face, pressing his lips to his own palm like he can muffle the sounds coming out of him.

Yuuri’s eyes are wide, taking in the scene before him.

He’s always known Victor does this, that he sometimes jerks off. When Yuuri leaves him alone for a couple of hours, when he stays a little too late at the rink, whatever. But knowing that and _seeing_ it are two completely different things.

He’s about to back out, close the door behind him, busy himself with putting groceries away and then take Makkachin out for an extended walk so Victor can have his privacy — when a word slips from Victor’s lips.

“Yuuri,” he groans, and Yuuri looks back at him. His eyes are still screwed tight, but his hips are bucking as he fucks into his fist, the fingers inside him curling with a twist of the wrist. “Ohhh, _fuck_ , Yuuri…”

The air flies from Yuuri’s lungs like he’s been punched.

Victor has always accepted Yuuri’s asexuality, respected his needs and wants in their relationship. They kiss, of course, and share a bed, and most importantly are making a _life_ together; but the strongest emotion Yuuri has ever been able to work up in terms of sex is apathy. They’ve talked about this, several times, whether Victor can be content with a partner who doesn’t want to sleep with him, whether Yuuri feels pressured at all into giving his body over to Victor. Yuuri _thought_ they understood one another perfectly.

But here he is, confronted with evidence that something, apparently, is not working.

 _Of course he wants to have sex with you_ , says the most vile part of his brain, the one that always hisses doubts in his ear. _Did you really think you could ever be enough to satisfy Victor Nikiforov if you wouldn’t put out for him?_

Yuuri stays frozen in the doorway, unsure if he should pretend this has never happened or if he should get closer to Victor, confront him somehow, even if he’s just about to get off.

The choice is made for him when Victor opens his eyes. His eyes seem larger, darker somehow, pupils blown until only a sliver of blue remains around the black.

He’s looking right at Yuuri.

The moment seems to stretch on forever. Yuuri standing in the doorway, hand on the knob, Victor’s hips stilling even as he keeps a loose grip on himself, his jaw slack as he meets Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri has no idea what his own expression looks like.

“Yuuri,” Victor stammers, and then he gasps, and his back bows, and he comes explosively all over his hand. It takes them both by surprise, and jolts Yuuri back to himself.

“I’ll… just be out here,” he says frantically, a little too loudly, averting his eyes to the floor. “Let me know when the coast is clear.”

Victor doesn’t respond, still breathing heavily on the bed, as Yuuri pulls the bedroom door shut, firmly.

He doesn’t move to the kitchen right away, instead pressing his back against the door as he tries to process what’s just happened.

Victor _wants_ him. Wants him in ways Yuuri doesn’t think he’ll be able to give him.

What are they going to do?

 

\--

 

Dinner that night is an awkward affair. Victor sits at one end of the table, pushing wilted spinach listlessly around his plate. Across from him, Yuuri seems very interested in cutting his chicken into smaller and smaller bites.

What Yuuri had walked in on… Victor doesn’t masturbate terribly often, having come to view an orgasm as a means to an end, a way to relieve tension. He’d started off that afternoon simply wanting to relax, not picturing anything in particular at first as he’d slicked up his fingers, working them slowly inside himself.

It was just… at some point, the need to get off had started mixing with the need to be _touched_ , to be held, and that particular need is so synonymous with Yuuri at this point in Victor’s life that his fiancé’s face had come to his mind before he was able to stop himself. And then… then, Yuuri actually _walking in_ , seeing him laid out like that, moaning Yuuri’s name as he touched himself…

Victor flushes, thinking about how hard he’d come when his eyes had linked with Yuuri’s. Flushes not from arousal, but from shame. How could he have been so thoughtless, using the man he loved in a way he hadn’t consented to?

He finally dares to break the silence.

“Are you angry with me?”

Yuuri looks up, startled.

“No,” he says immediately, and a knot in Victor’s chest eases just a little. “No, no, Vitya.” Yuuri gets up, sliding into the chair beside Victor. “You, um. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He touches Victor’s shoulder, gently, and Victor can’t help but stiffen. Yuuri shouldn’t be trying to comfort _him_. Shouldn’t be touching him, using sweet words, when Victor had all but violated him.

He buries his face in his hands. Yuuri keeps his hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles, because he’s _perfect_ , and far too forgiving.

“Yuuri,” he says, dropping his hands, “I love you. I’m so, so happy with you, and with what we have.”

“Good,” Yuuri says, taking Victor’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “I am, too.” He falls silent for a moment, still holding onto Victor’s hand. He can sense a _but_ coming from a mile away.

“Vityenka…” Ah, here it comes. “I’ve been doing some reading about, well, about the ace spectrum, and there are some ace people who will have sex with their partner because they want to make them happy. You know? They want to make them feel good.”

He looks up at Victor, his eyes shining.

“I love you, Vitya,” Yuuri says. “And I want you to feel good, too. I’ve said before, if you wanted to, we could _try_ …”

Victor’s shaking his head vigorously before Yuuri can so much as finish his sentence.

“No,” he says, closing the subject once more. “Absolutely not. Sex is… a completely different kind of vulnerability than what you’re used to. I’d never ask you to open up like that, just for my sake. We… we have to _both_ want it.”

Yuuri frowns, seeming disappointed by that answer, but Victor holds firm. In his late teens and early twenties, he’d had a string of lovers, mostly sponsors or fans, that had all wanted a night with Living Legend Victor Nikiforov. And every time, he’d given them what they wanted with a smile, the way he’d been trained to do his whole life.

He’d been too young, at first, to notice how every encounter tore at him a little, how much _pressure_ there had been to give his partner the Victor Nikiforov Experience. Molding himself to their whims, their expectations, being everything they wanted from him, only to be left in the morning. He’d done that for _years_ and pretended it didn’t tear him up inside.

It was almost a relief, when Yuuri told him he was ace. The dread of having to perform for Yuuri, for being what Yuuri needed instead of just being Victor, had dissipated almost immediately.

Thinking, now, of putting that same pressure on Yuuri to be what Victor wants?

It’s unconscionable to Victor.

“That’s awfully unfair to you.” Yuuri’s words bring him back to the moment, to Yuuri’s hands wrapped around one of his. He pulls Victor’s ring to his lips once again, to kiss it. “When do you get what you want?”

What _he_ wants? All Victor has ever wanted is to be what Yuuri needs for him. To help him, to support him.

He squeezes Yuuri’s hand.

“I already have everything I want,” he says, offering Yuuri the most sincere smile he can manage at the moment before pulling him in for a kiss. And it’s true. With Yuuri, he has love that he’s never felt before. He feels things more deeply, experiences life more vividly. It’s as though he’s awoken from an extended dream, emerging from fog to find the world in focus again.

He doesn’t know how to convey this to Yuuri in English, but, as he feels Yuuri relax into him, he thinks that maybe he understands.

“I can be better for you,” Victor murmurs, pressing their foreheads together as they part. “I’ll keep myself under better control from now on. I promise.”

He feels Yuuri frown, but it’s the best he can do.

He can live with being celibate. He isn’t sure he wants to live without Yuuri by his side.

 

\--

 

The thing is, Yuuri reasons, it isn’t Victor’s fault that he likes sex. Just like it isn’t Yuuri’s fault that he doesn’t.

What Yuuri has always craved most from Victor is a feeling of intimacy. Trust. Knowing that Victor has eyes for him, and only him. That he embraces who Yuuri is and has allowed a place for him in his heart. That he has given some part of himself, however small, to Yuuri to keep safe.

For most people their relationship would include sex, but… Yuuri has never felt the need to be with Victor in that way. At the very least, the thought doesn’t make his heart pound the way dancing with Victor does, or skating with him does, or even brushing their teeth side by side at dual vanities does. What difference would being naked together make, he wonders, when Yuuri had already spent his entire skating season broadcasting, loudly, his love for Victor to the world, or when they’d shared the ice together in a romantic duet?

Sex was… messy. Sex was _private_. Victor once described it to him as a form of communication akin to dancing, but, well, what was the point if he could just _dance_ with Victor, or talk with him? Putting special emphasis on sex as The Pinnacle Of Romance seemed, well, unnecessary at best, and infuriating at most.

Like there’s something _wrong_ with his relationship with Victor, like they somehow love each other less, because they aren’t fucking.

He might drop the whole thing, if not for the fact that Victor is so clearly silencing himself, keeping his wants and needs hidden, for the sake of Yuuri’s comfort. The words he’d said that night still ring in Yuuri’s ears. _I’ll keep myself under better control from now on._ But Victor is _always_ so controlled, so precise. He deserves to relax, to enjoy himself, to let go of the kite strings and let someone else take charge.

And Yuuri thinks he might have an idea of how to give that to him.

It’s a couple of weeks later when his gift finally arrives. Victor is out of the apartment, staying late for some extra training with Yakov, which gives Yuuri just enough time to work through his nerves about doing something like this for the first time.

 _It’s fine_ , he tells himself, tossing the package that arrived in the mail from hand to hand, nervous. _Even if he says no, at least you’ll have tried. This can be a story you’ll laugh about together later._

The lock clicks, and Yuuri instinctively straightens his spine.

“ _Tadaima_ ,” Victor calls as he reenters the apartment, sounding tired. His Japanese is still heavily accented, but the greeting is a custom he insisted on bringing from Japan with them, to help Yuuri feel more at home.

It’s one of the innumerable little things Victor has done for Yuuri to anticipate his wants, his needs. A thrill of excitement goes through Yuuri at the thought of being able to return the favor.

“ _Okaeri,_ ” Yuuri replies, kissing Victor in welcome once he’s deposited his shoes in the entryway. “I have a surprise for you.”

Victor’s eyes light up with delight.

“Really?” he says, draping his arms over Yuuri’s shoulders. “And it’s not even my birthday.”

He leans down, giving Yuuri a deeper, open-mouthed kiss, and Yuuri kisses back with a grin, his mouth lingering on the bow of Victor’s upper lip.

“I…” He gives Victor one last peck. “I was thinking about our conversation the other day.”

Victor heaves a deep sigh. “Yuuri, I love you, but I can’t, as your coach, let you add mozzarella sticks to every meal.”

“What-“ Victor is grinning at him. “No, not _that_ conversation! The one we…” He coughs, trying not to blush as he gets the words out. If he can’t even _say_ it to Victor, how can he have any hope of following through on what he has planned? “After I walked in on you.”

“Oh.” The smile slides off Victor’s face. “Oh. Um.” A mere second, then he recovers, giving Yuuri one of those polished smiles he dislikes so much. “What about it?”

Yuuri hates this. Hates that Victor has to hide some part of himself, hide his needs from Yuuri because he thinks he’ll be disgusted.

“I know you keep saying we don’t need to have sex for our relationship to be good,” Yuuri says, pulling away for a moment to retrieve his gift from the kitchen counter. “And I agree. But I also think that it’s not entirely fair to you to have to hide the way you feel. So… I got us this.” He hands Victor his present and sways anxiously on his heels as Victor slides off the ribbon and tears the paper.

Victor opens the box, and his voice catches in his throat, some mixture of shock and amazement.

“Yuuri…”

Yuuri says nothing at first, watching Victor pull his prize from the box with trembling fingers. It’s a silicone cock ring with a built-in vibrator, in a shade of deep teal that Yuuri thinks will look good against Victor’s pale skin. He hopes it’s a good one; he’d sucked up his pride and his dignity and gone to Chris asking for sex toy recommendations.

“I thought we could try this together,” Yuuri says. He slips his hand into the box and pulls out the associated remote, running his fingers over the back of Victor’s hand as he does so. “It seemed like a good middle ground.” It seems like the perfect compromise to him, in fact. Yuuri can still give Victor pleasure, still share in this with him, without Victor worrying that he’s pressuring Yuuri into anything.

The only time he’s seen Victor look so overcome was in Barcelona, when Yuuri was giving him a very different kind of ring. A silly association to make, maybe, given that they aren’t quite on the same level to Yuuri, but… it makes him feel good, seeing Victor’s whole face light up like this because of something Yuuri did.

“And…” Victor wets his lips. “You… want this?”

A sly smile spreads across Yuuri’s face.

“I _want_ ,” Yuuri says, putting his hands on Victor’s hips as he pulls him closer, “to give you what you need.” He brushes his thumbs over Victor’s hip bones. “Will you tell me what you need now?”

Victor blinks once before grinning down at him, heart-shaped smile spreading slowly over his face like the dawning sun.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he breathes, before burying his face in Yuuri’s neck. “Thank you.”

 

—

 

“How does it feel?”

Victor gives him a hazy grin, kneeling nude on the mattress. He makes a lovely picture like this, lips kiss-bitten and swollen after making out with Yuuri, hair tousled like he’s a model fresh from a shoot. The image is completed by the teal ring around the base of his cock, which Victor had slipped on while he and Yuuri had been kissing.

Yuuri can’t help but think that Victor Nikiforov, hard and willing like this, would be an ideal fantasy for someone else. Almost _anyone_ else. But that moment of insecurity is gone as quickly as it comes, as Victor meets his eyes and nuzzles his palm, almost shy. This is, first and foremost, about what _Victor_ wants, about what he needs.

There’s a special kind of pleasure from the knowledge that Victor trusts Yuuri, and no one else, to give this to him.

“It feels good,” Victor says, and Yuuri smiles at him.

“Not too tight?”

“Snug,” he replies, “but it’s supposed to be.” He tilts his face up, clearly searching for more kisses, and while Yuuri smiles and bites his lip, he doesn’t close the gap again just yet.

“Are you sure you want me to…?” He holds up his old blue striped tie, unable to say it. Victor grins in response.

“Yes,” he sighs happily, eagerly holding out his wrists. “ _Please_ , Yuuri. I… I think I need this.” He might be able to see the uncertainty on Yuuri’s face, because he puts his hands on Yuuri’s waist, pulling him closer while still keeping a careful distance between his naked crotch and Yuuri’s clothed one.

“You said you’d give me what I needed,” Victor whispers before leaning in, breath ghosting over Yuuri’s throat. “Won’t you…” He kisses Yuuri’s neck. “Give me… what I need?” Yuuri’s neck has always been a bit ticklish, and he can’t help but giggle before pulling back.

“Okay,” he says, landing a loving kiss on Victor’s mouth, tasting the heat there. “Hands behind your back.”

He makes a slipknot and loops it over one of Victor’s wrists before moving behind him, guiding his hands to rest at the small of his back. He works carefully, weaving the tie between Victor’s wrists to bind them together before looping the free end through one last time, pulling it to secure a knot. He checks it, sliding a finger under the silk; it doesn’t seem too tight to him. There’s still just enough give that Victor shouldn’t strain his shoulders or get any kind of rope burn.

“Too tight, Vitya?” he asks, knowing he needs to check.

“Unnngh,” comes the reply. Yuuri’s eyes go wide.

“Vitya?” he asks again, coming around so he can see Victor’s face. Victor’s head is tipped back, exposing the long line of this throat. Yuuri can see the fluttering of his eyelashes.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, resting a gentle hand at the base of Victor’s neck. Victor had warned him he might go under too fast, and he knows this is a grounding influence for him. “Answer me, please. Is the knot too tight?”

Victor’s breathing has gotten heavier, his face more flushed, but he smiles as wide as Yuuri’s ever seen him when their eyes meet.

“No,” he replies. His eyes are bright, pupils dilated. “Perfect, Yuuri. Perfect.”

Yuuri smiles at the praise, but he still falters. He’s never seen Victor like this before, so vulnerable, so open.

“I don’t know that I should leave you like this,” he says, feeling worried. Victor’s done this before with other people, true, and Yuuri’s done enough research that he trusts himself (and more importantly, Victor trusts him) not to hurt Victor during the scene, but… he’s never been around for one of Victor’s drops before. He would hate it if he’d ended up talking Victor into doing all this, then fucked it up or hurt him in any way.

“You won’t be leaving me,” Victor says, head tilted, smiling at Yuuri. “You’ll be right here.”

He looks down at his cock meaningfully. Yuuri follows his gaze, then snorts almost against his will.

“Oh, you,” Yuuri says fondly before leaning in for a long, gentle kiss. Victor makes happy noises against his mouth. “Now,” Yuuri says, kissing Victor one more time before pulling away, just out of reach. “Tell me your colors, Vitya.”

“Green, yellow, red,” Victor says dutifully, falling back on his heels.

“Good,” Yuuri says with a nod of approval, and sees Victor flush at the praise. “And what do you say when you want me there?”

Victor gives him that dimpled smile he loves so much. “ _Zolotse_ ,” he says in a low voice, almost a purr, and Yuuri finds himself blushing hot at the word, incredibly pleased. It’s the same kind of pleasure he feels when Victor tells him he’s beautiful, or when he and Victor skate together. It makes him feel cherished, special.

“Okay,” Yuuri says, flashing Victor a wink before turning his back on him. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

He swipes the vibrator’s remote off the shelf as he goes, and is gratified to hear the slight hitch in Victor’s breath at the sight.

“Surprise me, _dorogoy_ ,” he hears Victor say when he’s at the door.

Yuuri throws him a look over his shoulder.

“You know I will.”

 

—

 

The kitchen smells like home.

Yuuri pours bonito flakes into the pot on the stove, humming along with the song playing through their kitchen’s Bluetooth speakers. Making dashi is a soothing routine for him, one he’s kept up ever since moving to Russia so he might be able to make the familiar foods from his childhood. They’ve almost always got some on hand, so they can make miso soup or donburi or, on the rare occasion Yuuri has earned some, katsudon. But for what he’s got on the menu tonight, he’d prefer to have some fresh.

He skims the pot almost idly, holding the remote in his other hand. It’s been on a low setting for the past few minutes, the sounds in the bedroom growing softer. Yuuri flicks his thumb across its surface, bumping up the intensity, and is rewarded by a sharp, thin moan coming from the next room.

“Ah, Yuuri—!”

 _Surprise me_ , Victor had said. With 5 different pulse settings and no fewer than _twelve_ speeds on this cock ring, Yuuri has lots of room to play around with to surprise Victor. He’s sped up, slowed down, trying to make it so that Victor never quite gets complacent.

Based on Victor’s moans and the creak of bedsprings beneath him, it feels like he’s succeeding.

It’s almost tempting to walk to the open doorway, to watch as Victor comes undone at the touch of a button. But Victor, for once, has been clear with Yuuri about what he wants. For this first part, at least, he wants to be left alone.

And so Yuuri is out here, making dinner for the two of them, straining the dashi as it finishes cooking, humming along to one of Victor’s favorite songs as it plays through the speakers. It’s a slow, sensual song that he can’t help but sway his hips along to as it plays.

“ _All my thoughts slip away,_ ” Yuuri sings along, softly, “ _but I can’t stop thinking about your face_.”

He cuts thin slices of beef, chops up some scallions, cleaning as he goes. Beef udon is a simple enough dish to make, one he’s managed dozens of times, and it’s one of Victor’s favorites. (Does the man even _have_ a least favorite dish of his? Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it.)

He sets down the knife, rinsing his hands before going back to the vibrator, this time slowing it way down. He’s rewarded with impatient, breathless sounds coming from the bedroom.

“Ahnn… fuck, I can’t _…_ ”

There’s a slight _whump_ that comes from the bedroom, and Yuuri’s head snaps in its direction, unable to keep from feeling a little alarmed.

“Color, Vitya?” he asks, letting his voice carry through the doorway, finger still hovering over a button on the remote.

He hears Victor laugh, breathlessly.

“Green,” comes the immediate answer. “Ohh, green, Yuuri, green…”

Reassured by the answer, he changes the pattern of vibrations, simultaneously ramping up the speed once more. A garbled rush of Russian obscenities is the only reply he gets. It’s clear, just from listening to Victor, that he’s enjoying this immensely.

Yuuri is amazed, in fact, by how much _he_ is enjoying this. What he feels isn’t arousal, per se, but is more of a… tender feeling. Knowing the absolute trust Victor has placed in him, that the man he’s admired, the man he’s longed for, the man he _loves_ , is entirely at his discretion. That kind of trust is a heady responsibility, and Yuuri is honored beyond words that Victor has allowed him to have it.

He only hopes he’s doing enough to please Victor.

 

—

 

Victor is floating.

He could be in Japan, in Russia, on the moon. He’s lost track of time, of place. The few things left to ground him are the soft pillow under his head, the smell of beef udon cooking in the kitchen. The sound of Yuuri singing softly. The rough silk of Yuuri’s cheap blue tie that binds his forearms together behind his back.

(Yuuri is never, ever allowed to wear this tie again.)

A fresh jolt goes through the base of his dick, the vibrator pulsing a new beat, and Victor cries out, his face pressing into the pillow Yuuri so thoughtfully left behind him, knowing he’d fall over like this. Yuuri has set an absolutely _relentless_ pace in this, barely allowing him to settle into one pattern before immediately changing it up, speeding up or slowing down in a way Victor has no hope of predicting.

He’s already been brought to the edge twice; but each time he’s pulled right back again, leaving Victor cresting on the wave, his body riding that high even as release fades from his grasp.

He should feel alone, isolated, but he doesn’t. Yuuri is there with him, practically humming encouragement in Victor’s ear as he leads him into ecstasy. Yuuri’s voice in the other room, the sounds of him making dinner for them, is proof of that, a steady reminder that Yuuri is completely in control of Victor’s pleasure, the one responsible for the things he’s feeling now.

Gone is the pressure to perform, the expectations he has to live up to. Even an audience of one — even an audience made up of the person he loves best in the world — is too much pressure to live up to sometimes. Victor’s lost all sense of how he looks, how he should be acting, how he should be comporting himself.

Yuuri has set him free from it all, with the touch of a button. He is bare, raw, lying on their bed like this, unable to think, barely able to speak. Victor is pure _feeling_ , every nerve in his body grappling with sensations and emotions he has never felt before.

 _Safe_ , that might be a good word. Safe, and cared for, his burdens shed as easily as his clothing.

No one has ever, _ever_ , cared for him as much as Yuuri has.

“ _I won’t stop till you knock on my door…”_ Yuuri sings.

The speed ramps up again, an intense pulsing right at the base of his cock, and Victor cries out. “Yuuri!” His hips twist, fruitlessly. “Yuuri, I…” His throat bobs, trying to remember the signals they’d agreed upon before any of this started.

“ _Zolotse_ ,” Victor gasps. “My golden one, I need you…”

The nickname is a signal, a beacon drawing Yuuri to him. He dares to open his eyes, seeing Yuuri appear in the doorway, an echo of the way he’d interrupted the other day. Yuuri’s dark eyes are wide, absorbing the sight of Victor on the bed, hard and flushed for him, nearly weeping with frustration.

“I’m here,” Yuuri says, stepping closer this time. “What do you need? Tell me, Vityenka.”

“You,” is all Victor can gasp. “Please, Yuuri, I need you…”

There is a dip in the mattress at his side, Yuuri climbing onto the bed to lie beside him. Yuuri’s fingers dance, lightly, over the base of Victor’s throat, and he is so sensitive, so overstimulated, that he almost sobs at the gentle contact.

“Look at you,” he hears Yuuri murmur, still barely touching Victor as his fingers wander down his sternum, trace a circle around his nipple. “I never knew you could blush like this.”

Victor whimpers. Warm lips press against his cheek, Yuuri’s breath unfurling over his skin.

“You’re so good,” Yuuri whispers in his ear, brushing his hair back from his face before he leaves a trail of kisses from his earlobe all the way down his neck. “So patient. So good for me.”

“Yours,” Victor agrees, panting under Yuuri’s still too-gentle touch. “All yours…” Yuuri pushes a button on the remote, the vibrator humming a different beat, and Victor lets a long, sordid moan escape. “Yuuri,” he pants, “I w-won’t… last much longer…”

Yuuri’s nails trail over his flank, and he cries out again, oversensitive to even the lightest touch of Yuuri’s fingers on his heated skin.

“Open your eyes,” and Victor doesn’t even think of disobeying, eyelids fluttering as he looks for Yuuri. Yuuri’s smile is warm, tender, a flush having sprung to his own cheeks as Victor’s eyes lock with his. Yuuri’s smile looks like love.

“Yuurochka,” he breathes, shifting to try and get closer to Yuuri, feel his warmth, be fully consumed by him.

“Vityenka.” Yuuri’s voice is warm too, as he brushes Victor’s bottom lip with his thumb. Victor wraps his lips around it mindlessly, flicking the tip of it with his tongue. “Don’t ever take your eyes off me.”

Victor stills, and obeys.

Yuuri presses a button on the remote just as he leans in to cover Victor’s mouth with his, and Victor’s vision goes white.

“Mmn—!”

It’s the highest setting he’s used yet, Victor’s back arching off the mattress, his fingers clenching fruitlessly in the sheets as Yuuri leads him, once more, to that cliff’s edge, to release—

Victor’s hips pivot, once, before he comes, laughing breathlessly from relief as he finally reaches his peak. It feels like it lasts forever, ropes of semen painting his stomach, his chest, Victor falling and falling, but he’s not falling, how _can_ he be, when Yuuri’s right there with him, keeping him safe, staying by his side…

He could drift here forever, held and safe and warm and loved, pleasure flooding his brain as Yuuri keeps whispering sweet words in his ear. It’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, period. _Definitely_ the best sex he’s ever had, if this qualifies as sex when his partner seems content to just hold him.

When he comes to, Yuuri is still holding him close, stroking his hair, murmuring words of praise like _good_ and _mine_ and _beautiful_ as he gives Victor syrupy kisses _._ Victor thinks he just might melt at the tenderness of it.

Yuuri pulls away after a few minutes, and Victor groans wordlessly in protest; but he’s back almost immediately, having gotten a clean cloth from the nightstand, where they’d left it before they started. Yuuri cleans Victor gently, slipping off the cock ring, wiping up the mess from Victor’s belly before leaving a kiss right above his navel. Victor practically keens, oversensitive from having Yuuri be so close.

“You were perfect,” Yuuri says, with such devotion that Victor feels like weeping. “Thank you for letting me do this with you.” He carefully guides Victor so that he’s sitting up, untying his arms from behind him.

“Thank _you_ ,” Victor says, wrapping his arms tight around Yuuri once they’re free. Words are hard right now, still lost in the haze of endorphins, but Yuuri, being with Yuuri, letting Yuuri take care of him, has always been so easy. He pulls Yuuri into a deep kiss, and Yuuri follows, not seeming to mind Victor’s nakedness even if he’s still careful about where he touches. “My Yuuri. Always surprising me.”

“Mmm,” Yuuri hums, smiling. “I do my best.” He kisses Victor back sweetly before pulling back, picking up Victor’s favorite soft blanket from the end of the bed and wrapping it around him. Victor snuggles into the warmth, letting Yuuri surround him with love and soft fleece.

Time seems to stand still in their bed as they lie side by side, Victor still wrapped up in the blanket while Yuuri keeps him held close, rubbing his back, looking at him like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Victor can’t remember the last time he was so relaxed, so at peace with himself.

He doesn’t know how to thank Yuuri for giving him this.

“Was it good for you?” he asks, once he feels capable of forming full sentences again. He grins at Yuuri so he can take it as cheek if he wants to, but Yuuri just smiles fondly at him.

“It was,” he says, and that makes Victor’s heart feel light enough to float once more. “Not in the same way it was for you, but.” He scoots that much closer, so their noses are just touching. “I like that you trust me enough to see you like that,” he says, like he’s admitting a secret. Victor grins. He doesn’t know how he became lucky enough to be the repository for all of Katsuki Yuuri’s secrets, but it’s a privilege he knows he’ll never take for granted.

“Can we do it again?” he asks brightly. “Not right now,” he adds with a laugh at Yuuri’s expression. “I haven’t got another one like that in me just yet. But could we? I have plugs, you know. Handcuffs, too. Ooh, a vibrating dildo!”

Yuuri gives a shout of slightly panicked laughter, grabbing Victor’s hands as they wave excitedly so he might hold them still. 

“One thing at a time, Vitya.” Still holding Victor’s hands, Yuuri leans in to kiss his mouth once more, and Victor can’t help but giggle into the kiss. “For now, let me feed you dinner, hm? Then later, maybe we can take a warm bath together. I could wash your back for you.”

Victor has no idea how Yuuri makes an innocent bath sound so appealing, and yet he already finds himself daydreaming about being in the warm water with Yuuri.

“Perfect,” he says, curling into Yuuri’s embrace, resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “ _Radost’ moya._ You’re so good to me. _Ne magu zhit’ bes tebya.”_

He knows Yuuri’s Russian is still rudimentary, his vocabulary mainly limited to items at the supermarket, asking directions, and the pet names Victor bestows upon him on an hourly basis. (Can he help it if he can never seem to find the perfect pet name for Yuuri?) But he feels his love’s smile as Yuuri’s lips press against his forehead, hears his pleased hum, and he thinks he knows. He probably knows.

And as Yuuri brings in a large warm bowl of beef udon for them to share, feeding Victor noodles from his own chopsticks, Victor knows, for the first time in his life, that his love is returned to him in full.

**Author's Note:**

> Won't be translating all the Russian, but "ne magu zhit' bes tebya" means "I cannot live without you". It's a pretty strong declaration of love, at least according to my incredibly limited Russian. Oh, and "radost' moya" means "my joy", which I think is a sweet nickname. "Zolotse," another pet name, means "my gold", which I will say until the end of time is the perfect Victuuri nickname. 
> 
> I did find a recipe for beef udon online, and I know I didn't hit all the steps for it, but really, I thought I'd rather write a sex scene than a recipe. Sorry about it. 
> 
> If you want more ace!Yuuri from me, I've written a very lengthy (semi-autobiographical) character study of an asexual Katsuki Yuuri that you can find [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11199141). If you take umbrage with my headcanon that my boy is ace... um... sorry?
> 
> Otherwise, feel free to follow my Tumblr [@phoenixrei](https://phoenixrei.tumblr.com).


End file.
